54. A Plan

“Damn it, Claire!” Josh hisses.
“What? Sorry,” I say. We’re at the movies together, or at least Josh is. We’re sitting in front of some blockbuster romantic comedy, or at least Josh is.
I’m at home, staring into the empty room, seeing the too-big shrunken form of Quil, huddled on his bed, his hands over his head, his eyes closed. Every feature is twisted and shrunken with pain, even in sleep.
I stare at the screen but I don’t see the pretty faces and long shots of rolling waves. I see Quil covering his head with a pillow to choke back a scream so I don’t have to hear it.
Everything for me, everything for me! Even after this. Everything for me. Why can’t he give up? Why can’t I deserve it?
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this to you anymore. You’re in love with him, and it’s killing you. I’m sick of facilitating this masochistic thing you have going on, Claire. I’m not going to do this.”
“You’re breaking up with me?”
“Pretty much.”
I’d never really considered that as a possibility. He’d seemed like such a constant. I’d expected that part of my charade to last forever.
It didn’t hurt at all, but I am lost for my next move. I guess I don’t really need the prop anymore. I can just not have a boyfriend. Maybe I’ll go to clubs and get hit on. That’d be interesting.
“Claire…” the credits are rolling now, and people all around us stir and stand. “I want you to go back to him. I don’t know why you think he can’t leave you but I’ve seen him and I’ve seen you and this isn’t going to get better.”
I can’t believe how good he is. Poor Josh… he honestly loves me, truly wants what’s best for me, and I am just using him with no regard for how he feels. “I’m sorry I did this to you,” I say.
“No big.” He shrugs. “I get that you needed some time to, you know, find yourself and all, if you’ve known this guy since forever. But when are you going to see that you’ve found yourself? You know who you are. You’re still in love with him. Get over yourself and cut this out.”
“I… What am I supposed to tell him?” I blurt. It’s humiliating, the thought of coming crawling back. It would be worth it, but so hard to bring myself to beg Quil’s forgiveness. For some reason, it’s totally incomprehensible to me. And I don’t want to break the rule, I don’t want to say I’m sorry, and I can’t think of any other way to explain it.
“You don’t have to tell him anything.”
“What?”
“You don’t believe this guy really truly loves you more than life itself? Claire, I can prove it to you. I can bring you back to him, easy as anything. I have a plan, you see.”
I turn my head to look at him. The lights in the theatre jolt on, and he explains.